A Wicked World
by TheLawofMurphy
Summary: It's Yule Break of 2017, and Hermione has decided that she is going to share her own wicked love story with Scorpius, Albus, and Rose. Despite their unenthusiastic responses to story time. It's now or never, and with the children being in their first year of Hogwarts, she thought this story had a good moral. Are people born wicked? ON HIATUS
1. No One Mourns the Wicked

**The third time's the charm.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, it would have been told from Draco's point of view and he would have ended up with Hermione. Obviously that isn't the case. Nor do I own Wicked.**

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**The war has been over for about eleven years now, and Hermione has sat down to tell her son and her god-children about how her and Draco met. It all starts with a speech about the wicked doings of the death eaters, right after the war. Song-fic loosely based on Wicked's soundtrack.**

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"Once upon a time in the Wizarding Universe, there was a boy and a girl who appeared to utterly despise each other. He 'despised' her because of her heritage, and she 'despised' him because he bullied her relentlessly. The boy would pick on her day in and day out, but she always got him back by besting him in every class they shared."

"Eventually, the girl befriended two boys who became heroes, and the boy was forced into being a Death Eater. The girl went on to help save the world, and the boy was on the losing side. His parents made him work for a wicked man named Voldemort."

Hermione had just sat down wither her son, Scorpius, and her god- children, Rose and Albus, to tell them the story of how her and Draco ended up together. She thought there was a lesson to be learned from this story, and decided she was going to share it with the children, whether they liked it or not. No matter how cliché and corny it was.

"However, the boy and the girl both shared a huge secret." She said to the children. Hermione watched as Scorpius and Albus looked at each other and sighed dramatically, wanting to be outside in the snow, rather than listening to a boring love story. Rose, however, was hanging onto Hermione's every word.

"In order to tell you this story, though, I have to skip ahead to after the Battle at Hogwarts. It's a little confusing, but bear with me…"

"Good news!"

"He's dead!"

"He who shall not be named is dead!"

"No, Voldemort is dead. It's okay to say his name now, Angela."

"Whatever, he's dead."

Hermione watched the crowd that was huddled in the courtyard of what was once Hogwarts. It had been only a week since the war had ended, and she was asked by Shacklebolt to give a short speech about the good news.

She was not happy about it.

She hadn't wanted to come back to a place that brought her so many bad memories. This- this horrifying reminder of all the pain and suffering that occurred at what was once her favorite place to be. A place that was already being renovated for the next school year, as if none of this ever happened. She had even been invited back to continue her education for one more year, considering most of her final year of Hogwarts had been spent in the woods fighting a war. She still wasn't sure if she would accept the offer or not.

No matter how much she argued though, the fact remained that she was the "Golden Girl". The most level-headed of the trio. Shacklebolt would not take no for an answer.

_"Why can't Ron or Harry do it?" Hermione had complained._

_"You know as well as I do that Harry is not in the condition to be speaking to a large group of people and Ron is a hot-head." Shacklebolt had reasoned._

He had a point there. Ron certainly _was_ a hot-head.

As she took a breath and stepped from the shadows of the stage, she could hear the hushed whispers about the 'wickedest wizard there ever was' and 'the enemy of everyone in the wizarding world' being dead.

'Not everyone here,' she thought,' was an enemy of Voldemort.'

Hermione impatiently waited for the crowd to notice her and settle down. She had been standing there about five minutes before a familiar looking citizen cried out, "Look! It's Hermione!" She thought that the wizard looked familiar, maybe Seamus Finnegan, but she wasn't too sure.

Hermione forced a smile as the citizens all turned away from their gossip to pay attention to their hero. Taking a shaky breath, she began her well-thought out speech.

"Fellow citizens, let us be glad, be grateful, and _rejoice_ that our good and hard-working souls could subdue the wicked workings of, well, Voldemort." She took a moment for the loud roar of agreeing citizens to die down before continuing. She must have sounded confident and calm if they were being this responsive to her.

_'Or, they just love you because you helped save their arses form eternal slavery…' _she thought inwardly.

Hermione tucked that thought away and continued, "Isn't it good to know that we live in a world where good will always conquer evil? That the truth that we all believe in will outlive the lies told by those who try to deceive us? For both you and-"

"No one mourns the wicked!"

Hermione was interrupted by an outburst from the middle of the crowd. Two men were standing there, sizing each other up. They were staring each other down as if they were prey. Both of them were vaguely familiar, especially the man who was being challenged.

"Well I do mourn the wicked! My father was one of those 'Wicked Death Eaters'," he had to put air quotes around those three words, "and I understand that he did horrible things to other people. But, he is still my father, and despite the fact that he did terrible things, I still love him. Who are you to judge me for that!?" Hermione recognized the lanky, brown haired young man who stood before her, but she couldn't quite put a name with a face. She knew he was in her year at Hogwarts though.

The other man was raging. He had a fire in his eyes and looked ready to bite. Hermione just decided to step back and watch how the scenario would play out.

Another person, a witch this time, stepped out of the crowd and yelled in a shrill voice, "You don't see any of us crying about them being dead! No tears are shed over the fact that they will never return form the grave. They killed our loved ones!"

There were several murmurs of agreement before the crowd started shouting out slurs at the guy and demanding that he was wrong. The poor guy was cornered.

Hermione felt for him, she really did. The incident made her think of her best friend. She hadn't heard from him since the war was won. He hadn't even owl'd her. She had been worrying for days, but she couldn't let anyone else know. They would treat her the same way that this outcast was being treated now. It wouldn't matter that she helped save them all.

"No one lays a lily on their grave!" Shouted another person from the audience.

"All good wizards and witches should scorn the Death Eaters and their wicked slave driver!" Shouted someone else.

The crowd was closing in on the man and yelling at him. Words could barely be distinguished because the roar was so deafening. Hermione finally decided to step in.

"While it is true," she practically had to yell at the audience, "That the opposing side of the war was wicked, at least the children can learn through these mistakes as they get older. They can learn what they miss when they misbehave, that is. Let's not forget that." She said as the crowd started to forget their outspoken neighbor and pay attention to Hermione again. He looked grateful.

"Goodness knows, though, that the wicked life is rather lonely. And goodness knows that the Wicked do end up and die alone. They shut out their families, spread lies, and are deceiving monsters. They drive everyone who loves them away." She was looking directly at him, still puzzled by his identity, "I guess it just goes to show that when you are wicked, you're left on your own."

The mystery man was now glaring at her, but she knew what she was doing.

"But," she said, looking at everyone now. She was pleading with them to see both sides, like she and this mystery man did, "are people really born wicked? Or, do they have wickedness brought upon them. Bear with me one moment. Take Draco Malfoy for instance."

The name tasted sweet on her tongue, despite the bitter looks on everyone's faces. She missed him terribly and just wanted to know that he was safe. She could use nothing more than a playful insult and his arms around her.

"He had a father, and a mother, just like you and me. They were high, upstanding members of the community. And, despite raising their son to believe that muggle-born children were beneath him, he lived a fairly normal life. The fact that he despised muggle-born witches and wizards didn't make him evil. It just made him a little mean. However, when Lucius took Voldemort into his house and forced Draco to become one of the Death Eaters, he thrust wickedness upon Draco. Who's to say that Draco wanted to be a Death Eater? Who's to say that he even wanted to be affiliated with Voldemort? He had no choice to do what his parents asked of him. So you see- it couldn't have been easy!" Her voice was growing louder by the second as she watched the reactions of the crowd before her. She just wanted them to understand.

"No one mourns the wicked!" Shouted someone in the crowd.

"Draco is probably dead and gone!" Yelled another. That one made her flinch. She didn't want to think about the possibility that he could be dead... Even if it was a thought that crossed her mind from time to time.

The crowd did not like that their beloved Hermione was taking up for the infamous, teenage Death Eater. Especially one that managed to escape Azkaban. She immediately backtracked, trying to keep everyone at peace. She wasn't in the mood for a lynching today, and she had dealt with enough fighting for two lifetimes.

"Yes!" Hermione yelled, causing everyone to pay attention to her once again, "Yes. I agree. He... Probably is dead and gone." She hated herself for saying it out loud, but it had to be said. It was the only way to keep the community on her side. "I was merely trying to reason with both sides. Goodness knows, though, that we sure do know what goodness is. So, I say woe to those who spurn good deeds. _No one mourns the wicked_!"

Hermione stepped back and listened to the thunderous applause that followed her speech. She seemed to have gotten back in everyone's good graces. Everyone that is, except for mystery man. He was standing still amongst the crowd, glowering at her. Like a rock in the ocean.

She just shrugged at him apologetically. Sighing, she muttered to herself, "I guess not everyone can see both sides."

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**Criticism is always appreciated, but please don't be hateful about it. I understand if no one trusts me to update, as this is my third time trying to write this story. I'm just easily distracted.**


	2. Dear Old Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Wicked or Harry Potter. What a shame.**

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Hermione sat down to tell Scorpius, Albus, and Rose yet another piece to the puzzle that is her and her beloved. She had intended to tell it all in one day, but the boys had been getting restless, and she decided that maybe it was best to tell it in increments, much to Rose's dismay.

"Alright, children, time for another part of our story!" Hermione exclaimed. "Come sit."

Rose ran over and plopped down right in front of Hermione, excited to hear the next part of the love story. Albus and Scorpius, however, dragged their feet and made a big production over how they were having to abandon their card game to listen to this dumb story. They sat down behind Rose and rolled their eyes and Hermione began to tell more of the story.

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"Yesterday we left off where I had just finished my speech…"

"Hermione! Is it true that you were his friend?"

Hermione had just been about to exit the stage after her speech, when the mystery man challenged her with this question. She knew she would have to word it just right in order to keep the crowd from going crazy over the fact that their dear Hermione Granger was, in fact, friends with Draco Malfoy. So, she decided to play dumb in order to buy her more time.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I haven't the slightest clue who you are talking about. I was friends with many people at Hogwarts."

"You know very well who I am talking about: Draco Malfoy. So, tell us, were you his friend?" This man questioned her again. This time she had no choice but to give him the truth. The audience would suspect something was amiss if she didn't. Hermione took a deep breath, nervous for what was to come after she told her tale.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you mean by friend." The word friend had many meanings: acquaintance, good friend, bad friend, _boyfriend. _"I did know him. Our paths often crossed at school…" Well. It wasn't exactly a lie. They just happened to cross paths more than some people ever knew.

Hermione looked back into the eyes of the familiar man who questioned her, and she was suddenly drawn back into a time much simpler than this one. Back when the hardest part of life was getting to her classes on time and trying to make sure she got her homework done: her first year at Hogwarts.

_"Oh hallowed halls and vine-draped walls, the proudliest sight there is."_

_Hermione found herself sitting at the Gryffindor table, laughing with her new friends, Harry and Ron. She had just been accepted into Gryffindor, the house that she had been longing for since she found out that she was a witch. Now, there was great food in front of her, people laughing all around her, and the Hogwarts choir was up front, singing a beautiful song. It had intricate harmonies weaving around the melodies. It was wonderful. This place was wonderful. She knew she was going to love it there._

_"When grey and seer our hair hath turned, we shall still revere the lessons learned, in our days at dear old Hogwarts. Our days at dear old Hogwarts."_

_There was a thunderous applause once the choir had finished its song, and then Headmaster Dumbledore got up to give a speech. Hermione was all eyes and ears as the Headmaster went on about rules and regulations and announcements and this and that. The only time she lost her focus was when she heard a loud laugh coming from the Slytherin table. In fact, everyone lost their attention on Dumbledore then, for they were all turning to stare at the commotion._

_As Hermione turned to look, she noticed it was the white-blonde first year that she had met on the train and all of his friends. Once he had found out that she was a Muggle-Born witch, he had said, "Get out of my way, you filthy mudblood. You shouldn't even be here."_

_Hermione just knew he was going to end up in Slytherin. She was glad for that. Maybe she wouldn't have to see him again. Just as Hermione was turning back to Dumbledore, her eyes were caught by the apologetic brown eyes of one of Malfoy's friends. He seemed genuinely sorry from the commotion they had caused, before turning back around to look at Dumbledore._

When Hermione returned from her memory of her first dinner in the Great Hall, she found herself staring into those same brown eyes that she caught during Dumbledore's speech. They were a little older, a tad bit more tired, but they were the same eyes.

"Theodore Nott." She whispered to herself.

"So you see," she addressed the audience, "I wasn't exactly friends with Draco Malfoy. We simply butted heads at school and on the battlefield. That is all." Hermione walked off of the stage then, deciding to be done with this ridiculous speech that she had to give in order to 'boost morale.'

Hermione walked out past the buzzing crowd, to an area where she could apparate back to her house. As she was about to apparate, however, someone grabbed her wrist. Soon she found both herself and Theodore Nott standing inside of her cottage.

"Granger, I'm flattered, but you haven't even asked me to dinner yet." He smirked at her glaring gaze.

"What are you doing here, Nott?" Hermione was none too happy about that fact that this man was in her house. He was one of Draco's lackeys that tortured her for the fun of it. She could take it from Draco, because she knew that he was just doing it in order to keep up appearances. However, Nott and the rest of the minions actually did it because they thought it was fun to make her hate herself.

"I believe it was you who apparated me here, Granger. It doesn't matter though, I was going to ask if I could talk to you in private anyway." Theodore spoke in a calm manner, but always had a hint of a joke in his tone. You could even see a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Why would I want to talk to you? So you can call me a 'filthy mudblood' again? Or so maybe you could help give me big teeth? That was my favorite run in with you and your little friends, you know?" Hermione was angry that Nott would even think he could just talk to her as if they were old buddies from school.

"Now Granger, I know you are not so daft as to think that I really partook in those childish games? Too far below my maturity level and I honestly couldn't care less about blood purity, unlike my cohorts. Think for a minute, Granger. Think back on all of those times that you were bullied by us. Was there ever a single time that I said something to wrong you? Or raised my wand to you? No. I was Malfoy's right hand man, but I was raised as a gentleman. Despite the fact that you are a mudblood, as they say, you are still a girl and I was taught to treat girls with respect. So you may huff and puff all you want, but I never did anything to you." Theodore countered.

Now that Hermione thought about it, Nott never did do anything to hurt her. He just stood by silently, and would occasionally let out a bored laugh at a joke his friends made or a hex they cast on her. Hermione's resolve softened a bit, but she still didn't like that this stranger was in her house.

"Well, thank you for sorting that out for me. However, I do have some business to attend to, so if you wouldn't mind leaving, the door is that way." Hermione pointed behind Nott, at the wooden door of the cottage.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. If I were you, I wouldn't be so rude to someone who could give you some news about your dear Malfoy. Oh, try not to look too shocked, dear," he added as Hermione's face betrayed her emotions, "Like I said, I was Malfoy's right hand ,an, but even so, anyone who was intelligent enough could figure out that there was more than what met the eye with you two. However, if you really want me to leave, I guess I'll best be on my way. Thank you for the rather… Unpleasant chat, Granger. I'm sure I'll see you around." Nott's tone was dripping with sarcasm as he turned around and headed for the door.

Hermione weighed her options in her mind. On one hand, she didn't really want anyone to know how much she cared for the missing, pureblood wizard. On the other hand, this may be her only chance to find out some information about Draco. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Wait!" She practically yelled, causing Nott to stop in his tracks. "What do you know about Draco? Is he okay?"

Nott smirked once again, and walked back over to her. He leaned down to her and whispered, "Why don't you be a good dear and make us some tea. We can discuss the matter of Draco Malfoy then."

"Fine, I'll have tea ready in a few minutes." Hermione said as she walked to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home, I suppose."

A few minutes later, Hermione walked out with a tray of tea and sat in the chair across from Nott in the living room. Hermione watched as Nott took his sweet time, pouring his tea, adding some sugar. She was only getting more and more frustrated.

She took her tea black.

"So, what do you know about Draco?" She asked impatiently.

Nott smiled, "Patience, my dear, is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting."

Hermione just huffed and took a sip of her tea.

Many moments later, Nott had decided that poor Hermione had waited long enough. "Draco is okay." He simply said.

Hermione was noticeably relieved by that information. "That's all? You followed me here to my house, antagonized me, and made me wait all of this time just for you to tell me that he is simply 'okay'? Where is he? What is he doing? When is he coming back? Is he coming back? Can I see him if he isn't? Why is he-"

"Calm down, Granger, I will answer all of your questions in due time, but I can't when you are blurting them out all at one time." Nott said to the sputtering mudblood across from him.

Hermione took a calming breath, another sip of her tea, and cleared her thoughts before asking her questions one by one. They ranged from "where is he?" to "can I talk to him?" to "does he still remember me?" She had questions upon questions, and Nott had answers to most of them.

"I have no idea where Malfoy is. No one does. He is hidden somewhere that no one can find. However, he's safe this way. He has owl'd me once or twice, but he cannot owl often. The ministry will eventually figure out where he is and put him on trial. He isn't convinced that he won't be convicted if he is put on trial. So he is waiting it out in his safe haven for a while, until he is confident he could survive a trial and be a good man for you. He told me to give you this," Nott handed Hermione a letter, "read it when you are alone and have time. He told me to tell you to owl him when you get the chance."

Hermione jumped out of her seat and hugged Nott, before realizing what she did and recoiling back. "Um, thank you, N-Theodore. For your assistance. It has been greatly appreciated."

Theodore just laughed. "It has been no inconvenience of mine, Miss Granger. Once again, I am sure I will see you around. Parting is such sweet sorrow." He said as he took her by the hand and brushed his lips across her fingertips.

"Don't worry, it's just a formality." He added with a chuckle at her half shocked, half disgusted expression.

"Romeo and Juliet. Goodbye, Theodore." Hermione said as she walked him to the door.

Once he was gone, she cleaned up the tea mess and sat back down in her chair to read her letter from Draco. She absolutely could not wait to see what he had to say.

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"Alright, kids, that's enough for today. I'll tell you more tomorrow." Hermione said to Scorpius and her god-children.

"What a shame." Scorpius said with his father's sarcastic drawl before he ran back to the card game him and Albus were playing.

"Yeah, I really wanted to hear more," Albus said, although not quite as sarcastic as his best friend.

"I really did want to hear more, Hermione! Why did you have to end it there? What was in the letter?" Asked Rose.

"All in good time, dear." Hermione said as she got up and walked out of the room, Rose following closely behind.

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**Quick note: I referenced Romeo and Juliet and a quote by Joyce Meyer.**

**"Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting." -Joyce Meyer**

**"Parting is such sweet sorrow." -Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2**


	3. The Wizard and I

**This chapter was a pain in the butt for me to write. I just couldn't get much inspiration for it. I hope the flips between perspectives doesn't throw anyone off too much. In my mind they were perfectly clear, but that may just be me. Anywho, enjoy the story.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Not any of it. Besides the plot, that is.**

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'Another day, another story,' Hermione thought as she curled up in her favorite chair in the foyer to tell the children yet another little bit of her own personal fairytale. Today her husband decided to grace their presence, lounging lazily on the couch in front of the fire.

"Come along, children," Hermione called to Rose, Albus, and Scorpius, "it's time for another piece to the story."

Rose practically sprinted to the spot right in front of Hermione, eager to hear more of this romantic tale. Albus started to get excited, but after one quick look from Scorpius, decided to roll his eyes and fling himself into a spot on the carpet dramatically. Scorpius, who was very similar to his father, took his time getting over to the storyteller, making a production of how lame he thought this was.

Hermione smiled at all three of the beautiful children, they were the loves of her life. Well, besides Draco, of course.

"Alright, so for this portion of the story, Draco is also going to be giving his input," Hermione said as she smirked at the half-asleep figure on the couch. At the sound of those words, he jumped and looked over to Hermione.

"Excuse me, what?" He said, with a look of contempt upon his face.

"Yes, you will be partaking in story time today, on your day off." She explained. He knew better than to argue with the brilliant witch, and just sat up to at least seem like he was paying attention.

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Hermione found herself curled up in her chair by the small fire place in her cozy cottage, reading and rereading the letter that Draco had sent her. He was okay. He was beyond okay.

He was safe.

She felt as if a boulder had been lifted off her chest and she could finally breathe again.

According to the letter, he was also in a small cottage that had a fidelius charm encompassing it so that no one could find him. He was safe, and uninjured, and missing Hermione dearly. He was also hoping that one day she may be able to come visit him, although it would have to be rather secretive. They couldn't risk exposure. Not for now, anyway.

Hermione finally set the letter aside and picked up a quill to reply to Draco.

_My Dearest Draco,_ she began.

_I'm so relieved to finally hear from you. You have no idea how much of a weight this has lifted off of my shoulders.._

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_..Forever yours,_

_Hermione Granger._

Draco held her letter in his hands. He couldn't believe that he was actually corresponding with her. _'Thank you, Nott,'_ he thought to himself as he continued to read and reread her letter until the words all blurred together on the page.

She told him about her small cottage, the speech she had to give for Shacklebolt, her encounter with Theodore Nott, how dearly she missed him, and all of the smaller things in life. Her writing went on for pages as she gushed over everything that has happened since the war ended.

He could feel himself hugging the letters to himself, and could still smell a hint of her lotion on the letters she had sent.

The scent of the lotion brought him back to his first real encounter with the girl. All the way back to their first year at Hogwarts.

_"Oh, Miss Granger," Draco heard Professor McGonagall say to, presumably, Hermione Granger as he walked up to the door of her classroom, "I have waited for many, many years for a gift like yours to appear."_

_Draco had needed to speak with the professor about an assignment that she had given them, but she seemed busy. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't do some spying. Any information that he could use against that mudblood filth would be worth sticking around for._

_"I even believe that the Headmaster would make you his Magic Grand Vizier, my dear." Draco wasn't sure what that was, but it sounded important. If it had anything to do with Dumbledore, though, he wasn't sure he wanted to take part._

_"I'll meet at once with Headmaster Dumbledore and inform him of you in advance. With a talent like yours, there is a definite chance that you will be working for good. That is, if you do as you should while you're at Hogwarts." Draco rolled his eyes at this statement. This was ridiculous._

_Finally he heard Granger give some muffled response and start to leave the room. He scrambled to make it look as if he had just shown up, so that she couldn't tell that he had been eavesdropping. As Granger rounded the corner, he 'accidentally' tripped her._

_"If I were you, I would watch where I was going, mudblood. Now I'm going to have to wash up, because your filth is all over me." He looked down at the young witch with a perfectly placed snarl on his face. _

_She just looked up at him with an equally gruesome glare. If looks could kill.._

* * *

_"If you are not going to make yourself useful, Malfoy, then get lost." Hermione said to the menacing bully as she scrambled to pick up her books and papers off of the floor. He just huffed and stormed into McGonagall's classroom, slamming the door behind him. She had hoped that he would get chastised for that._

_'Did that really just happen,' Hermione thought to herself. There was no way that she could have heard Professor McGonagall right. Dumbledore couldn't possibly want anything to do with her. She was a mudblood, and she tried to suppress it as much as she could. She studied harder than any other student, carried herself with posture and used proper manners. She tried her hardest to fit in with the other students._

_However, it seemed that her incredible talent with magic, mixed with the fact that she was muggle-born, could be something that would bring her attention to Dumbledore if she does well in school. _

_'So I'll work even harder,' she thought to herself. _

_As soon as she got back to her room, she decided to send an owl to her parents about the good news she had ran into._

Dear mum and dad,

You will never guess what happened today! I was pulled aside by one of our professors and told that if I keep up the good work, Dumbledore will grant me an important title. How exciting! When I meet Headmaster Dumbledore, then I'll prove my worth. This is what I've waited for since, well, I got the letter.  
Headmaster Dumbledore is so wise, that he doesn't even care about blood prejudice. Blood prejudice is something that everyone seems to take so seriously around here. As if I can't possibly be worth anything, simply because I have mugg- non-magic parents. But I know that he won't be blinded by my heritage like everyone else here. He isn't small minded like that.

He'll say to me, "I see who you really are. A witch that I can rely on." And that's how we'll begin.

Once I'm with Dumbledore, my whole life will change! No one will think less of me. No friend is not proud of me, and no bully acts ashamed. And all of the wizarding world has to love me because by Dumbledore, I am proclaimed.

And one day he'll say to me, "Hermione, a witch who is so superior, shouldn't a girl who is so brilliant inside, have a matching reputation. And since everyone here to an absurd degree, seem fixated on your pedigree, would it be alright by you-"

Well of course, this is all just fantasy. I'll just work harder and harder until one day, my fantasy will become my reality. I will work for everything I get. Oh what a pair we'll be, Dumbledore and I.

My future is unlimited, mum and dad. And I have this crazy vision, almost as if it is a prophecy. Bear with me, I know this sounds crazy, but I swear someday there will be a celebration throughout the land that is all to do with me.

And I'll stand there with Dumbledore, feeling pride like I've never felt before. And though I'd never show it, I'd be so happy I could melt. And so I will work for the rest of my life, and I will want nothing else until I die, to be held in such high esteem that when people see me, they will scream for half of the wizarding world's favorite team: Dumbledore and I.

Sorry for rambling on and on, I'm just so excited. I truly love it here, mum and dad! Almost as much as I love you guys.

Your dearest and darlingest,

Hermione Granger.

_Hermione handed the rolled up piece of parchment to her designated owl and sighed. She couldn't wait for the rest of her life to begin._

'Oh how you and naïve I was back in my first year,' Hermione thought to herself, recalling that moment when she first realized she was destined for greatness. She really did always believe hat there would be a day where the entire population would rejoice at her name, but she didn't think it would come at this horrible of a cost. If she knew then what she knew now, she would have taken it all back.

Now, Hermione was sitting at her desk, considering and considering and considering whether or not she should accept the offer to go back to Hogwarts for another year of school, when the owl arrived. It perched at her open window, parchment in beak, and cocked its head at her. Waiting, she supposed, for the treat that the spoiled bird often would get.

She grabbed the letter from the owl's beak, fed it a treat, and sent it on its way back to Draco. It had been weeks since she had gotten his first letter, and while they couldn't owl as often as she would like, they were owling as often as possible. She was hoping that maybe they could meet up soon.

She was so excited to have received yet another letter from Draco Malfoy, she could hardly contain her excitement. She was hoping that in this letter, she would find out whether or not she could visit him.

As she unrolled the parchment and slowly read the letter, savoring each and every word, she saw the words she had been looking for: _Why don't we schedule a time for you to come meet me at my cottage. I miss you dearly and am longing to be with you again._

* * *

Hermione hugged the letter to her chest and almost started crying tears of joy. This is the first thing that had gone right since before the war had started.

Hermione looked down at the children sitting in front of her. Scorpius had fallen asleep, and Albus was trying not to look like he cared too much about what was happening in that 'awful' story of Hermione's. Rose, however, was hanging onto every word.

"What happens next, Mione? Did you get to meet with Draco? Did Draco ever get caught? I can hardly stand to wait much longer." Rose said with a dramatic flop onto the floor.

Hermione just grinned at her god-daughter, "all in good time, my child. Now off to bed, the lot of you."

With a sigh, Rose stood up and dramatically slinked across the room to the stairs that led to the children's wing. Albus got up as well, and started to leave before looking back at Scorpius and remembering to wake him up. They both walked over to the stairs, pushing and shoving one another.

When they were finally all upstairs, Hermione looked over at her dear husband, almost completely asleep on the couch. She carefully got up and sat down next to him, leaning her head on his chest.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy." She whispered to him in his ear.

He smiled and looked at her, "I love you too, Hermione."

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the latest edition of a Wicked World. Not my favorite chapter, but eh, you know. Oh well. Let me know what you think. **


	4. What is this Feeling

**This one's shorter, but I burned my hands in lab today so it hurts to type. I know, I know, why not just take longer to post chapters? Because If I don't do them in succession like this, then I will lose inspiration. Oh well.**

**Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. Darn.**

* * *

The sun had nearly set as Hermione gathered the children in the foyer for yet another round of story time, much to Scorpius's dismay.

Rose was thrilled to find out what happened next, as always, and even Albus was starting to come around to the idea of this wicked love story of hers. However, Scorpius was still nonplussed. All he wanted to do was play cards with Albus and ignore Rose. So it was with a loud sigh and dramatic eye roll that he graced them with his presence.

His father also managed to show up again. Which meant they got to hear more of his side of the story.

* * *

'Today's the big day,' Hermione thought to herself as she grabbed her jumper from the coat rack. Today was the day that she was going to get to see her beloved for the first time since the war had ended. Even throughout the war, they only got to see each other when they were firing curses just to the right of each other's heads. So this will be the first time they have actually been able to just be together in.. Around a year.

And what a dreadful year it had been.

She couldn't believe that only a little less than a year ago, she had been sending a letter to her family about how much she loathed Draco Malfoy. She had actually spent her entire school career meeting with him in secret. However, when she became Head Girl, and him Head Boy, she realized she loved him.

That was terrifying.

So she tried to cover it up by sending a hate-filled letter to her parents, which left them concerned for her. Not that they remember that concern anymore.

Hermione crossed over to pick the letter up from her desk. She had taken it from her parent's house, along with anything else that would have reminded them of her, before she obliviated them. She still had a few minutes before she was supposed to meet Draco, so she sat and reread her letter, trying to remember a time where war was eminent, but not present.

_My dearest mum and dad,_

_There's been some confusion over rooming here at Hogwarts. But of course, I'll continue to work hard, for I know that's how you would wish me to behave._

_Yes, there's been some confusion for you see my roommate is unusually and exceedingly cruel and altogether quite impossible to fathom. I've never had this feeling before, but I have felt it ever since I met this boy- yes, you heard me, boy. You see, we are both Head Boy and Head Girl, which means that we have our own quarters. Separate rooms, of course, but the same commons. _

_Every time I lay my eyes on him, my pulse starts rushing and my face starts to flush. This feeling is fervid as a flame and the only word I know to describe it is.. Loathing. Unadulterated loathing. From his face to his clothing, let's just say that I loathe all of him. Every single little trait of his makes my skin crawl right off of my bones with simple, utter loathing._

_However, there is a odd.. Exhilaration, I would say, in detesting a person this much. __He's so pure. He's so.. Strong.__ IT'S so pure, so strong, excuse me. And while I do admit that this feeling came on fast, I do believe that it is here to last. It has been this way ever since our first year here, when he pushed my stuff to the ground and called me filth. I believe I will be loathing him for the rest of my life._

_It's so peculiar why he picks on me so much. Everyone, literally everyone else absolutely adores me. Well, except for his lackey's, of course. Let me describe to you the interaction I had with Harry and Ron the other day._

_I was sitting in the library, doing my homework (even though it was the first day of classes), when all of the sudden, Harry and Ron busted through the door. They stomped over to me, the librarian hushing them in their wake, and demanded an explanation as to why I was residing with Draco Malfoy. _

_When I reminded them that the Head boy and girl have to reside together, Harry said, "Hermione, you are too good to be living with that ferret. How are you going to stand it?"_

_Ron nodded along with Harry, "I honestly don't think I could. He's a terrible human being!"_

_Harry, looking to one-up Ron, "A tartar, really. Honestly, we are probably a little biased, but you're practically a martyr."_

_I just huffed and went back to my school work. "Well, some things are just meant to really try us."_

_Ron sat down next to me and wrapped his arm around me, "Poor Hermione," He said to Harry, "Forced to reside with someone so disgusting."_

_Harry nodded in agreement and sat on the other side of me. Grabbing my hand in his, he said, "We just want you to know that we are on your side. We share your loathing."_

_So see, even my friends think he is that horrible. He really is horrible. You think he's horrible, right?_

_I'll be __loving__ loathing him my whole life long._

_Your darling,_

_Hermione Granger_

* * *

"You really felt that way about Uncle Draco, Aunt 'Mione!?"

Rose seemed utterly shocked that Hermione would say such things about the love of her life. Hermione, however, just laughed and patted Rose on the head.

"Rose, dear, why don't you be patient and listen for the rest of the story. I suppose I will give you this tidbit, though: there is always more to the story than what meets the eye. Or ear, in this case."

Rose just huffed and sat back on her heels. She supposed she would just have to wait.

* * *

_Dear Father,_

_I'm afraid there has been some confusion about the rooming here at school. Of course, I'll rise above it, like you would want me to. However, yes, there has been some confusion for, you see, my roommate is a mudblood._

_Not just any mudblood. _

_Hermione Granger. _

_Father, I have felt some extreme distaste for people before, but this is a completely new feeling. It's.. Sudden and new. And I felt it the moment I laid eyes on her, all those years ago. Every time I see her, my head starts to reel. This feeling is fervid as a flame, and I think the only name for it would be loathing._

_Unadulterated, absolute, deafening, loathing._

_Her voice just grates on my nerves. She's such a goody-two-shoes. She's always trying to prove herself in class, working harder than any pureblood just so she can hide her filthy heritage. But I know. We all know. She'll never amount to anything more than mudblood trash. And as soon as that hand flies up in class before the question is even finished, I feel my nerves being played like a violin._

_So let's just say, I loathe it all. Every ounce of her being. Every trait, no matter how small. It all just makes my flesh crawl with simple loathing. Total and complete detestation. Trust me, you don't have to worry about me trying to buddy up with ol' Granger. Besides, she works for Potter. And My Lord would not appreciate that. _

_We all know what happens when he doesn't appreciate something._

_I believe this is a feeling that will last and last and last until my dying day. No other witch has ever made me feel this way, nor wizard. Even my friends ask me how I'm going to handle it. They say she's trash, filth, and other explicative that would be too inappropriate to say to my father. I just grin and bear it, saying that sometimes things are sent to try us. This is certainly one of those things. I'm just glad to know that they are all on my side with this matter. _

_I will truly be __loving__ loathing her my whole life long._

_Signed,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Draco smirked at his own, clumsy writing on the page in front of him. He had written this letter only a little under a year ago. Inside he talked about how much he loathed this bushy haired know-it-all. However, it was all an act. He even wrote it with Hermione in their common room. She wrote one as well, that nearly matched it.

He stole it back from his parents at the turn of the war. It was too mistake-ridden to risk the Dark Lord seeing it, and he needed something to remind him of the good days anyway.

After reading it and rereading it, he finally looked at the clock on the wall. It was approximately time for Hermione to be here, so he started to put the letter away. By the time it was neatly folded and put in his desk drawer, he saw a female figure standing just outside of the fidelius barrier.

Draco didn't even bother with trying to contain his smile as he walked outside to see her.

Once he got to the young woman, he quickly looked around and then pulled her into the barrier by surprise. She didn't even have the chance to see him.

Hermione let out a small yelp until Draco appeared before her.

"Malfoy," she said, a smile playing at her lips.

"Granger," he replied, a smile already plastered on his face.

Then suddenly she was in his arms. He supposed this is what heaven felt like; although, he knew he would probably never find out.

* * *

"Alright, kiddos, it's bedtime." Hermione said in the middle of a yawn. So really, it sounded more liked gibberish, but the kids understood.

Scorpius bounded out of the room and Albus slowly got up and followed his friend. Rose, however, stayed put. Hermione headed upstairs to tuck them in.

"Now Rose, what ever are you doing?" Draco asked the small child.

"I'm not leaving until you continue the story!" She demanded.

Draco just chuckled at his goddaughter, "You're spending too much time around Aunt 'Mione. You'll end up headstrong, just like her. Now come on, off we go."

Draco lifted the small girl up over his shoulder and carried her up to her shared room with Albus and Scorpius. "Now stay put, and you'll hear more of the story tomorrow." Draco said, as he closed the door behind them.


End file.
